Dead Giveaway (21 page)

She hadn't told her father they'd gone to his cabin. He assumed she'd gone to Clay's farm, and she planned to leave it that way. "Maybe I had a little too much to drink the night we played pool," she said. "But I didn't get drunk with Clay. Not the way you think. And Clay didn't even touch me when we were out last weekend. We fell asleep, okay?
Nothing happened
."

"But you know everyone around here believes he's guilty of murder. And you're a police officer, for God's sake!"

"No one's been able to prove Clay was responsible," she said. "Besides, like I just told you, nothing happened."

"Well, something happened this morning," he said.

Foreboding settled deep in Allie's bones. "What's that?"

"What you get when you thumb your nose at the people who've been dying to bring Clay Montgomery down."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"The mayor's already called me three times, mad as hell. When she was struggling to win the election, she promised the Vincellis that she'd get to the bottom of Barker's disappearance. It was part of her damn platform. I had her convinced we were doing everything we could, that there wasn't enough proof to press charges. And that was okay--before you riled up the Vincellis. Now she wants a full-fledged investigation. No holds barred."

Allie caught her breath. Until that moment, she'd been studying her father's ruddy face, wondering if he was really cheating on her mother. But this last statement got her full attention.

"What?" she murmured.

"You heard me. You've wanted this ever since you came home. Well, now you have it.

You'd better solve the damn thing and do it fast, or we'll both be out of a job."

Allie's jaw dropped. She didn't want to investigate Barker's disappearance anymore. These days she had difficulty even reading through the notes and statements in the storeroom, terrified she'd uncover some piece of evidence that implicated Clay. "I've changed my mind," she said.

"There's not enough there. I can't solve it."

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"It's too late," he said. "You don't have a choice. You solve it or we'll be packing our bags.

And they'll bring charges against Clay regardless."

"It's official? You're reopening the case?"

"It won't be open long."

"They'll never get a conviction based on what we've got!"

"That depends on the jurors, doesn't it? And if they're from around here, you never know."

Shit!
Allie knew Clay's enemies were powerful enough to guarantee a panel of jurors to their liking.

She nibbled nervously at her bottom lip. "We can't put an innocent man in prison, Dad.

That's where this is all leading, isn't it? They want to put him away and they're tired of waiting for the proper evidence in order to do it."

"Who says Clay's innocent?"

"I do!"

"That's your heart talking, Allie. And that's what scares me."

What about
Dale's
heart? Where was his heart in all of this? And what about his marriage?

Allie wanted to ask if he was seeing someone else, but right now she could only accuse him of drinking out of the wrong mug. Clay was right; that tube of lipstick could belong to anyone who'd ridden in his car. Her father didn't give rides to many women, but that didn't mean he couldn't or hadn't. "I was just trying to help Madeline," she said.

He shoved some papers aside and finally sat down. "If they lock up her brother, you won't have done her any favors."

"That isn't what I wanted."

"I know. I've been trying to keep you out of this...." His words trailed off, and he shook his head in frustration. "That family's been through hell, Allie. You think I want to see that happen? I actually had Clay's best interests at heart when I asked him to stay away from you. But the two of you wouldn't listen to me. And now I have no alternative except to pursue the case."

Allie considered the information she'd sifted through already, Lucas's odd reaction on the phone, the picture Jed Fowler kept in his living room. What did it mean for Clay? For Madeline?

For the rest of the Montgomery family?

She thought of Clay holding her at the cabin, remembered her desire to feel his mouth moving on hers.... "Clay didn't do it," she said.

Her father lifted a skeptical eyebrow. "It doesn't matter, does it? Someone has to pay.

They're going to get him one way or another."

"No, they're not," she said. "He didn't do it, and I'm going to prove it."

Allie smiled at her daughter. "Hold still, babe, okay?"

Whitney could hardly contain her excitement long enough for Allie to tie the bow in her hair. "They'll be skating. On ice!" she said breathlessly.

"I know."

"And in the morning we're going to eat breakfast on a little cart in our room!"

Whitney had been planning this trip with her grandmother for the past several days. They were driving three hours to Nashville to see Disney on Ice and then, because it would be late, they were staying the night. Whitney had hardly talked about anything else. Fortunately, she didn't need much in the way of a response, because Allie hadn't been paying a lot of attention. She was too focused on trying to figure out how to stop the Vincellis from manipulating her father into pressing murder charges against Clay--and whether her search of the cabin would yield proof that her father 97

Brenda Novak

was having an affair.

"Belle and Cinderella and Snow White will be there," Whitney went on. "And Beast."

"It'll be wonderful," Allie murmured absentmindedly.

Evelyn stuck her head in the bathroom. "How's my girl? She all set?"

Wearing a cream-colored dress, with a strand of pearls at her neck and matching pumps on her feet, Evelyn had put on some makeup. But Allie couldn't help noticing that the lipstick she wore was a very light pink. Soft. Muted. Like always. "Whitney's ready," she said.

Allie's daughter jumped up and down and clapped her hands. "Do I look pretty, Boppo? Do I? Huh?"

"You look beautiful, darling. Now, don't mess your hair." Evelyn gave her a warm embrace. "You remind me so much of your mother at this age."

"Are you sure tonight won't be too much for you?" Allie asked. "Driving so far alone?

Maybe I should go with you."

Evelyn waved a dismissive hand. "Don't be silly. You don't have a ticket for the show, and there's no need to sit in some hotel room, waiting for us. This is our little adventure, right?" she said to Whitney.

Whitney came in perfectly on cue. "Right!"

Allie had assumed that her mother was spending so much time with Whitney because, prior to Allie's return, Evelyn hadn't been able to see her only grandchild very often. Danny had married three years ago, but so far he and his wife remained childless. Having Whitney in the same house was new for Evelyn and she was definitely enjoying it. But now Allie had to wonder if her mother wasn't channeling all her energy into her grandchild to make up for losses and disappointments in other areas of her life.

"Mom?" Allie asked.

Evelyn adjusted the clasp on her pearls. "What?"

"Doesn't Dad mind that you'll be gone all night?"

"Of course not. Why would he?"

"Because he'll miss you?"

"He'll be fine. He knows we'll be back tomorrow." She opened her purse and began to show Whitney all the treasures she had stashed inside.

"Are you and Dad getting along okay?" Allie asked.

Evelyn seemed to grow even more interested in the contents of her purse. "And see this?"

she said to Whitney. "These are mints. To freshen our breath."

Whitney beamed at being treated like an adult. "Oh, I'm going to want one of those," she said reverently.

"Mom?" Allie persisted.

Evelyn snapped her purse shut and straightened. "What?"

"Are you and Dad doing okay?"

"Of course." She smiled, but Allie couldn't tell whether it was sincere. "Why do you ask?"

"He's seems a little..."

"Temperamental?"

Allie watched Evelyn closely. "I guess."

"Don't worry." She smoothed back a strand of Whitney's hair. "It's the diet."

"He doesn't like to eat his peas," Whitney confided.

Allie doubted her father was denying himself. From what she could see, he'd actually gained a few pounds. Was her mother afraid to question what was really going on for fear she 98

Brenda Novak

might find the truth too painful?

If so, Allie certainly didn't want to be the one to inform her. But who else was there?

"I'll see that he finishes his vegetables tonight," she teased and walked them out to the car.

Her mother and daughter waved as they drove off, then Allie began packing for her own trip. She wanted to reach the cabin before it grew dark--and she wanted to leave before her father came home. She hadn't told him she'd be gone, hadn't wanted to invent any excuses.

If she was lucky, he'd assume she'd gone with Evelyn and Whitney.

Allie was on her way out of town when she spotted Grace Montgomery--Grace Archer since the wedding--at the stand she occasionally ran in front of what used to be Evonne Walker's house on the corner of Main Street and Apple Blossom. Since Grace had married Kennedy Archer, she'd taken a sabbatical from working as a lawyer. She preferred to stay home with her stepsons, and certainly didn't need to work for financial reasons. She didn't need to sit at the side of the road selling baked goods, garden produce and handmade items, either. But when Evonne died a year or so earlier, the Walker family had inherited her house and Grace had inherited her special recipes--recipes that were such a tradition in Stillwater, Allie couldn't imagine them disappearing.

Evidently, Grace felt the same way. When the Walkers put the house up for sale, Grace had bought it and was in the process of turning it into a shop that would sell the same things Evonne had made.

Until the improvements were complete, however, she continued to run her stand right there in the front yard, just as Evonne had always done.

Everyone knew it was in tribute to a woman Grace had truly admired. Grace wasn't the only one to miss Evonne. The entire town mourned her.

Kennedy's two boys were with Grace, as usual. They seemed especially close to their new stepmother. Which was a little surprising. Like Clay, Grace could be remote and guarded. Allie had tried to approach her on a number of occasions, but if Kennedy was around, he generally moved to intercept anyone who might corner his wife and make her feel uncomfortable.

Kennedy wasn't around today. So Allie decided to stop. She wanted to get to the cabin as early as possible, but she was also aware of what lay ahead of her on the Barker case. She needed to find some clue, some kernel of truth that would lead her to Barker's real murderer--before the situation spiraled out of control.

She hoped Grace would be the one to provide that kernel of truth.

Parking at the side of the road, she turned off the engine and climbed out.

"Hi, Officer McCormick!" Nine-year-old Teddy, the younger of the two boys, hurried over to meet her. He loved police officers and had once told her he wanted to be a policeman when he grew up.

"Hello, Teddy."

Heath, Teddy's older brother by two years, hovered near the end of the table. "I'll collect your money when you're ready," he announced.

If Allie had her guess, he'd be the one to take over at the bank. "Okay," she said chuckling as she picked up a bar of handmade soap.

Grace was selling two fruit pies to Mrs. Franklin, the wife of a retired pharmacist who'd been an institution in Stillwater since Allie could remember. When Clay's sister glanced up and saw Allie, she didn't seem too pleased.

"These smell good," Allie said to Teddy, stalling for time.

"Those are violet," Teddy told her.

"Lavender," Grace corrected as Mrs. Franklin left.

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"They're nice," Allie said.

Heath handed her a wicker basket to hold her purchases, and she set the bar inside, along with some lavender lotion. "Evonne would be proud of the way you've stepped into her shoes," she told Grace. She was sincere in her praise, but that comment didn't start the conversation she was hoping it would.

"Thank you," Grace said politely, then shifted her attention to the curb as another car pulled up.

Allie turned to see that it was Reverend Portenski. He nodded a general greeting as he approached the stand, but his eyes kept flicking--rather nervously--to Grace.

Grace immediately busied herself restocking the brownie and cookie platters from covered plastic dishes stored under the table.

"What can I get for you, Reverend Portenski?" Heath asked.

"The peaches are good," Teddy suggested at his elbow.

Portenski picked up a bottle of peaches. "Yes, I think you're right. I'll have some of these."

He glanced at Grace again; she didn't look up. "And a jar of dill pickles."

Teddy got the pickles for him while Heath hurried to the cash drawer behind the table.

"That'll be ten dollars."

Allie put a plateful of brownies in her own basket. Because she'd been in such a hurry to leave the house, she'd packed a very meager dinner. The brownies might sustain her if the search took longer than expected. Or possibly help console her, as much as anything could, if she found something she'd rather not see.

"No fresh tomatoes yet?" Portenski asked Grace.

"Not yet," she replied.

"That's too bad. The ones you had last summer were the best."

Grace didn't respond, but Teddy spoke up. "They'll be ripe in a few weeks."

Allie sensed a strange kind of tension between Grace and the reverend, but she didn't understand the cause. Grace never went to church. Maybe the reverend had invited her to come out and she'd refused. Or he wanted to invite her and was afraid she'd refuse. Grace certainly didn't seem any more open to talking to him than she did to the police in general, or Allie in particular.

Allie watched the reverend struggle to gain her attention--in between adding a dozen fresh eggs to his purchases and examining the jams and jellies. But then a truck drove by, a truck Allie recognized. It was Jed's old Chevy, and she focused on that instead.